Monsters In The Trees, Cold Steel In Her Heart
Monsters In The Trees
How dare he... how dare he turn her into a victim? A scared girl who's life he would take, conclude for a moment's satisfaction. The sick bastard is going to kill her anyway, so why should she make it easy for him.
She was of no consequence, of no more value in his eyes than the putrid dead animals that littered the forest floor. She was his, his prey, an animal to be hunted, taunted and played with, to satisfy his diseased mind. She was merely entertainment for his warped sense of pleasure, but only until the psycho becomes bored with his human toy. Then, and only then, would he put her out of her misery by slitting her throat with no more emotion than he showed when he gutted the terrified buck rabbit that he ate for breakfast a few hours ago.
The girl stopped screaming, gradually, she took in her surroundings as if for the first time, she saw the beauty of the forest no more, what she saw, was a place of sanctuary.
Her senses heightened; she could hear a pin drop. The woods grew quiet. The girl experienced a strange calmness, unlike anything she had ever felt before. Her eyes dilated like targets on a rifle range as she is drawn towards a thick pile of dank, moist, musky leaves at the base of an old oak tree, just a few feet from where she knelt.
She began to crawl, moving slowly at first, then faster and faster; furiously she scrambled on all fours until she reached the welcoming shadow of the old tree, like a womb, it enfolded her, offering a degree of safety and protection.
With bare hands, she began to dig, and the damp musty smell of things long dead crept into her nostrils, seeping into her lungs. Still, she dug into years of rotting leaves caked with mud, through old branches immersed in a dense growth of fungi. Her hands were sore, raw and cold as it came into contact with a piece of wood that had been cut by someone with a sharp blade some time ago.
She grabbed hold of the sturdy stick, wrenching it from the tangled bundle at the base of the tree; she held it in her right hand, grasping the object within her palm. Running her left hand along the length of the wood; she tested the point of her make-shift weapon against her thumb, and with a resigned look in the large dark eyes, she held her prize close to her face.
Cold Steel In Her Heart
This is my conclusion to Monsters in the Trees, Steel in her Heart Part ll
Read to find out if Jenny became part of the forest, or if the resourceful young girl made her way back home.
Cold Steel In Her Heart
Reassured by the roughness of the wood against her skin, she knelt quietly among the leaves on the damp earth, caressing the sharp point of the wood against her finger, she whispered, "perfect," the smile that extended her muddied lips did not reach the coldly determined eyes.
The girl gathered dried branches, grasses and broken shrubs; she ran her mud-stained fingers over her face, then weaved dried leaves, dirt and twigs into her brown shoulder length hair.
The forest grew still, not a bird sang, Nature held her breath until the thunder of a single leaf falling, broke the pregnant silence. She buried herself in the shade of the old tree, cocooned and perfectly camouflaged, and she waited.
If you enjoyed this short story, please check out the original and first part of the story by Frank Atanacio at http://frankatanacio.hubpages.com/hub/Screaming-into-the-Darkness-of-her-Despair and
Check out more alternative endings to Frank's original story from other hubbers, available from Frank's hub.
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